Waiting for Coffee

At the Tarragon Theatre Extraspace, part of the Toronto Fringe, Waiting for Coffee (created and directed by STARLIGHT in collaboration with actors Devin Harrington, Kyle Leung, Robin Chase, and Steph Crothers) refuses to follow a conventional plot, and that’s precisely its charm. This isn’t a play about what happens. It’s about what doesn’t. And in that space, in the waiting, something profound emerges.

Produced by The Purple Stage, a professional theatre company for neurodiverse artists, the show plays less like a linear story and more like a feeling slowly developing in real time. For the first time The Purple Stage is bringing neurotypical artists into the creation and performance process, bringing a new kind of energy to this collaboration. At first, I caught myself searching for a narrative thread and wondering where we were going. As the performance unfolded I realized the point wasn’t to go anywhere, the point was to be still. 

We find ourselves in a liminal space - a neon pink spray-painted patio set with two chairs and a round coffee table. We see two women sit, waiting for a coffee. Meanwhile, the waiters attending them (think Tweedledee and Tweedledum reimagined by Gen Z costume design) are delightfully absurd, testing the patience of both the characters and the audience. Music by Perfume Genius hums beneath it all, scratching a satisfying itch in my brain. Each performer brings a distinct energy, and together they explore the edges of theatrical timing; how long can a gag go on before it breaks? How long will we sit in the silence with them? These questions, never spoken, feel central to the work.

One woman periodically pulls scraps of paper from her pocket and reads words into the air. Near the end, a word sparks an impromptu story, an effective moment of narrative that could have been used throughout. Still, the scattered structure holds its own, especially when movement pieces punctuate the waiting. A plastic sheet, aglow with the colored lights, floats through many of the movement sequences, heightening the otherworldly feeling of the piece. I do wish the lighting had been brighter at times as we miss out on some of the actors’ more nuanced expressions. 

The show opens with a man in mustard and neon pink repeating the word “waiting” at the audience, smiling as the repetition becomes its own kind of provocation. It ends when he finally brings out the long-awaited coffee. But by then, we’ve changed. We don’t need it anymore.